


Flannel & Fucking Machines

by funsizedshaw, justanexercise



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gags, Sex, Strap-Ons, Vibrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5423075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funsizedshaw/pseuds/funsizedshaw, https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanexercise/pseuds/justanexercise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw shows her appreciation for Root's newest identity in the best of ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flannel & Fucking Machines

 

“Why’s my whiskey in a test tube?” Shaw shakes her head and stares down the rack of test tube whiskey shots in front of her. She downs one.

“Same reason why my beer is in a boot,” Reese says. He taps the enormous boot shaped glass.

Shaw rolls her eyes but takes another shot anyways. “Thought this was supposed to be an authentic Texas bar.”

“They tried.”

“Fake mounted bison head, Texas license plates,” Shaw points out the ludicrous adornments on the walls. She raps her knuckles against the the paneling. “And plastic wood.”

The comm link crackles and Finch adds, “ _Poor decor aside, Ms. Moore’s business seems to be doing quite well. The bar itself brings in at least ten thousand a month after expenses.”_

“So no business debts,” Reese nods.

“Alright, so our girl’s the perp.”

_“We don’t know that yet Ms. Shaw, just because her business is affluent does not mean she is the perpetrator.”_

Shaw rolls her eyes to the bar owner in question. She gives her a quick once over and smiles behind the test tubes. She wiggles her empty glasses at him. “Looks like your type Reese, young, skinny, blonde. Maybe you should go over there and...get some inside scoop.”

Reese narrows his eyes but walks over to the bar. He flashes a charming smile at the number who winks at him.

“More beer?”

Reese cringes slightly at the fake mish mash of Southern accents but manages to keep the smile on his face.

“Whiskey, please. My friend over there drinks like it’s water.”

She chuckles and fills up a couple more test tubes with whiskey. “And what about you? Liking the beer?”

Reese nods. “The beer glass is… interesting.”

“Reminds me of home, going for that authentic charm you know?”

_“Doesn’t seem like she’s selling that story so well.”_

“And where’s home?”

“Ain’t it obvious? Texas of course! You city slickers sure haven’t been around to the Lone Star huh?”

Reese nods dumbly as she refills watered down beer from the tap into the garish cowboy boot themed mug. “How long have you been here?”

“Moved here after college. Opened the bar with some money I had saved up.”

“Ah, business doing well then?”

“You kidding me? It’s never been better.”

_“She’s right, the bar makes at least twenty thousand dollars a month.”_

“Alright,” Shaw mumbles into her hand. “So no financial worries. Unhappy employee or customer?”

Moore hands Reese the platter of drinks, running her fingers across his palm and giving him a flirty wink.

Shaw smirks. “Or maybe a stilted lover.”

_“Ms. Moore, according to her Friend Czar messages does seem to have a rather active late night lifestyle.”_

“You saying she sleeps around, Finch?”

_“In a manner of speaking, she doesn’t have the same partner more than twice.”_

Reese puts down the alcohol on the table and sends Shaw a smirk as he sits down. “Interesting philosophy. Sounds familiar.”

“You take everything I say literally?”

Reese is about to answer when loud cheering from the other side of the bar draws their attention. They both turn to see a group of men gathered around a ring with a mechanical bull in the centre. A large, muscular man strides confidently over to it and climbs on as Reese and Shaw watch. With all his bravado, whooping and hollering and waving his costume party cowboy hat in the air, he barely lasts five seconds before getting tossed on his face.

Shaw turns to Reese. “Wanna give the mechanical bull a go Reese?”

Reese glances down at his pristine suit in answer.

Shaw rolls her eyes. “Finch will buy you a new suit. Come on, I’ll bet a hundred bucks you’ll stay on longer than that guy.” She nods her head towards the fake cowboy stumbling about nursing his bruised ego.

“Maybe we should focus on the mission, Shaw.”

She smirks. “Scared I’ll last longer than you?”

_“I’m pretty sure you’ll last longer than him, Sameen. You are really good at riding.”_

_“Ms. Groves?”_

_“Yes Harry?”_

_“Why are you on this line?”_

_“She told me to.”_

_“That means…”_

_“That Lindsey Moore isn’t just a bar owner with a terribly fake accent? You’d be right Harry.”_

“Care to enlighten us Root?” Reese asks.

_“Unfortunately we don’t have time for that right now, there are six heavily armed men sneaking in through the back entrance.”_

Shaw and Reese immediately reach for their guns and look at each other.

“You get the girl out of the way, I’ll go hold them off.”

Reese nods and heads to the bar.

Shaw follows, heading towards the back room. “You happen to be anywhere nearby Root?”

_“Turn around sweetie.”_

Shaw turns to see Root sauntering through the swinging saloon doors in a full cowgirl outfit.

“Is that…?” Shaw mutters, her eyes shining with admiration and jealousy.

Root pulls out her twin revolvers from the leather holster sitting low on her hips and sends Shaw a wink for good measure. She spins them both on her fingers and shoots off all six rounds into three of the assailant's kneecaps. Ducking behind a booth, Root drops the revolvers.

Shaw groans. “What's the point of having antique Western revolvers if you’re just going to throw them away?”

“I’ll buy you new ones later sweetie.”

Shaw grins. She shoots the other three men in quick succession and turns back to Root.

Reese picks up after them, kicking away guns from the men writhing on the ground. He sighs and throws them a pitiful look. “You couldn’t have saved me one?”

Shaw shakes her head. “Where’s the girl Reese?”

He looks around the empty bar and shrugs. Apparently all the customers fled. Convenient.

Root’s cowboy boots click against the hardwood floor, she goes on her tiptoes to the bar and reaches around, tugging the terrified Lindsey Moore up by the lapels of her shirt.

“What’s going on?” Moore asks, staring at the three of them.

“Oh cut the act,” Root hisses.

“What?” Moore shakes her head. “Please, I don’t know...who were those guys? Why’d you shoot ‘em? Y’all -”

“Finish that sentence in your fake accent and I”ll shoot you.”

“It’s not-”

Root hauls her over the bar and dumps her on the ground. She pulls out her pistol from behind her back and aims it straight at Moore’s head. “Now what did I just tell ya?” Root asks, her own real authentic Texan accent seeping out.

Moore gulps and wisely stays silent.

“Root?” Shaw raises an eyebrow.

“Take all that money your bar is going to make from insurance and get outta New York. Drop the accent.” Root puts the safety back on and slips it back into her pants. “Oh and get out of the loan shark business, you’re just not cut out for it, city slicker.”

Moore shakes her head. “This is my city, you can’t just-”

“New Jerseyan, really?” Shaw huffs.

“You either take the insurance money or you can stay here and have three gangs vie for the money that they think was rightfully theirs. Your choice.” Root checks the garish cuckoo wall clock behind the bar. “You’ve got five minutes until four men armed with three submachine guns, two grenades and four pistols come in to smash your hand until you give them the names of your clients.”

Moore scrambles from the ground and runs out the backdoor.

Root grins, picking up her discarded revolvers from the ground and putting them back into the holsters. “Well, that was easy.”

“Nice accent Root,” Reese says.

“Well, I actually am from Texas.”

Reese turns to look at Shaw who’s been utterly speechless since Root decided to pull out her accent. He raises an eyebrow and pokes her in the ribs. “What, haven’t ever heard a real Texan accent before Shaw? Or seen a real cowgirl?”

Root tips her stetson hat at Shaw, sending her a wink.

Shaw, who was in the middle of coming up with a retort, pauses and shakes her head. “We finished here?”

_“I’ve contacted Detective Fusco, he’ll be coming by to arrest them.”_

“Just one more thing,” Root says. She hops behind the bar and throws Shaw the most expensive bottle of whiskey with a wink. “Something for the road.”

“What -” Shaw stops mid-sentence as Root pours the rest of the cheap liquor across the bartop and splashes it around the ground.

“Lighter please.” Root holds out her hand and Reese slaps it into her palm. “Thank you.”

“You’re burning down the bar?” Shaw asks.

“Insurance Sameen.” Root flicks on the zippo and throws it on the liquor. She pulls back slightly at the flickering flames and points to the groaning men still writhing on the ground. “Now, time to take out the trash.”

The men share terrified looks but Root just motions for Reese to haul them out and Shaw does the same.

“When did we turn into garbagemen?” Shaw mutters under her breath and punches out one of the whining men.

“The preferred term is sanitation worker,” Root pipes up. She pulls on her flannel shirt, fanning herself. “Bit hot in here.”

“Cause you set the bar on fire,” Shaw deadpans. She shakes her head. “Which means we should get going before we get burnt to a crisp.”

“Is that the only reason you’re eager to leave Shaw?” Reese smirks at her.  

She rolls her eyes and sticks her foot out as he walks past her, sending him stumbling.

Root surprisingly doesn’t make any innuendos, and Reese and Shaw both turn to her quizzically. She’s watching the bar go up in flames with a slight pout on her face.

“Root?”

“Pity I had to do that. Was looking forward to riding that mechanical bull.”

Reese grins. “Bet Shaw would have loved to see that.”

“Are you trying to make me shoot you?”

Root continues to pout.

Shaw rolls her eyes and yanks Root’s elbow. “Come on Eeyore.”

Root grins slyly, letting herself be pulled. “Is there something better for me to ride?”

Shaw shakes her head as they walk away from Reese. “Much better.”

* * *

 

“Keep the hat on.”

Root grins, pinning Shaw against the wall. “Cowgirl fantasy Sameen? Should I talk like this?” Root ends with an exaggerated accent.

Shaw gulps, her hips thrust sharply against Root’s thigh.

“Well then, I guess that’s a yes.”

“Shut up.” Shaw tugs Root by her leather jacket across the apartment, hips bumping into walls and sharp corners. She nips Root’s lips, licking away the sting and falls to the bed, Root still standing in front of her. Shaw gulps, taking in the full gear Root’s sporting. “What’s with the cowgirl costume by the way?”

“Just looking the part.” Root unzips her jeans, letting it hang off her bony hips, the prominent bulge in between her legs stands out.

Shaw blinks. “Were you packing this whole time?”

“Now someone promised me a better ride,” Root says, ripping off Shaw’s tank top and bra. She cuffs her to the bed and lays a calming hand on her sternum.

“Yea, I did.”

Root grins wickedly, unbuttoning her red plaid shirt, parting the sides. Shaw gulps. Root’s not wearing a bra.

“I hope you keep your promise Sameen,” Root says, holding out a gag in one hand and a vibrator in the other. “Because you’re not coming until then.”

Root kisses away Shaw’s groan and carefully inserts the gag into her mouth.

“Ready sweetie?”

Shaw nods and shifts eagerly on the bed. Root trails her hands across Shaw’s torso teasingly and flicks the button of her jeans open. Shaw groans behind the gag and lifts her hips as Root drags her jeans and underwear down achingly slow.

Root tosses Shaw’s clothes to the floor and moves forward to straddle her. She drags her nails down Shaw’s torso and Shaw arches up with a low moan. Root grins and bends down to nip at her exposed neck, her hands gripping Shaw’s hips.

Shaw barely registers the buzz of the vibrator before it hits between her legs. Luckily for Root, the gag muffles Shaw's screech or Root could be in danger of temporarily losing hearing in her one good ear. And that would be a shame, since Shaw’s making such wonderful moans behind that ball gag.

“You okay there Sam?”

Shaw cracks open her eyes, glaring at Root.

Root chuckles and drags the vibrator up Shaw’s pelvis. She grins at Shaw’s muffled protests and continues moving it further up her torso. Shaw jerks her hips up demandingly, still glaring at Root.

Root hums and leaves the vibrator balanced between Shaw’s breasts.

“Hold that for me a moment Sameen.”

She leans back and pulls the strap on out of her jeans, maintaining eye contact with Shaw.

Root grins at the excitement in Shaw’s eyes and rubs the tip of the dildo between Shaw’s legs teasingly.

Shaw frowns and cants her hips towards Root, who leans forward to grab the vibrator off of Shaw’s chest. She slides into Shaw slowly, and brings the vibrator back between her legs as she does so. Shaw throws her head back and lets out a muffled moan.

“Remember not to come Sam,” she warns her before she starts thrusting fast into Shaw.

An undignified grunt escapes through the gag, Shaw clenches hard around the strap on and screw not coming, she’s going to come now - what the hell.

Root slides out of her completely, tsking and wagging a finger. “What did I say Sameen?”

Shaw growls and wiggles her hips into the air.

Root pouts. ”Guess you’re really not a good ride after all.”

Shaw's eyes narrow dangerously at Root, challenging her with just a look. Root chuckles, slipping back in between her legs. She brushes the sweaty bangs off Shaw’s forehead, her palm cupping Shaw’s bulging cheek.

Muscles gripping uselessly at Root thrusting inside her, Shaw moans pitifully again and Root simply stops thrusting, leaving herself immobile in Shaw. “Come on Shaw, is this the best you can give me?”

Shaw blinks. She anchors her heels onto the bed, hips sharply bucking straight up. Root barely keeps her balance, hand thudding on Shaw’s chest.

“That’s a good girl,” Root coos, riding Shaw’s hips.

Not again, it’s too soon. Shaw’s eyes roll to the back of her head. Not yet damn it. Shaw grits her teeth, she is not coming. No. She drops her hips back on the bed, Root falling with her. Shaw groans, forcing the almost-orgasm away, her muscles wound tight.

“Sameen?” Root brushes away a strand of sweaty hair.

Shaw arches a brow and juts out her chin.

“You want it out?”

Shaw nods.

Root hums, unbuckles the gag and drops it on the pillow.

Working her jaw side to side, Shaw wets her lips. “You know, you riding me technically involves me wearing the strap on.”

Root tilts her head, a smirk forming slowly. “You wanna fuck me Sameen?”

Shaw nods, ready to bust out the puppy dog eyes.

Root hums. “Alright, sweetie.”

Shaw relaxes as Root pulls out and leans across to get a thinner dildo. She kicks off her jeans and slides out of the leather harness. She straps it onto Shaw then whips the hat off her head and puts it on Shaw. Root grins at the sight of Shaw naked with only the hat and dildo on her. “Ready?”

Shaw grins. “Ready ready.”

“Ready ready ready?”

“Root.”

“Just checking Sameen.”

“Shut up and ride me.”

“Gladly.”

Root sinks down onto Shaw, moaning as the dildo enters her. Shaw grins and starts thrusting into her. This is much better. Shaw watches Root slowly come undone, a bead of sweat running down her forehead across the concentrated creases. Her hips power through and Root puts two hands on Shaw’s chest just to stay upright.

“Nuh uh,” Shaw warns. She looks pointedly at the hands. “One hand only.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup, now put one up cowgirl.”

Root grunts and puts one hand up in the air, the other pinching Shaw’s nipple between her fingers.

A few more measured thrusts and Shaw snaps her lower body up and off the bed. Root yelps and holds on.

“Fuck,” Root hisses, her muscles clenching around the dildo.

Shaw lowers her butt back onto the bed from her perfect bridge pose as Root comes down from her orgasm. She chuckles when Root teeters over and buries her face into Shaw’s shoulder.

“Good enough for you?”

“Hmmm… I think the bull would’ve been better.”

“Oh? Can the bull do this?”

Shaw reaches behind Root, the cuffs dangling from her wrist. She trails her fingers over the sensitive spots at the back of Root’s thighs.

“What about this?”

She sucks hard on Root’s earlobe. Root moans and melts into Shaw.

“I don’t know Sameen, there are some very sophisticated machines now.”

Shaw narrows her eyes. She tips Root over the bed, transferring her handcuffs to Root and the headboard.

“And what are you doing?”

“Fucking you.”

“You sure you can do that from up there?” Root raises an eyebrow.

Shaw pushes the strap on into Root, smirking at Root’s sharp hiss. “Yea Root, from up here.”

Root’s retort gets lost in Shaw holding her throat against the bed.

* * *

 

Root slips out of bed, leaning over Shaw and kissing her cheek. She grins while Shaw frowns in her sleep. Sighing at the sight, Root picks up her oversized flannel shirt from the ground and slips it on, buttoning three buttons. She rolls up the sleeves, padding barefoot to the kitchen.

Humming to herself as she prepares a hearty breakfast to replace all the calories spent last night, Root puts a hand on Shaw’s wandering arms around her waist. She leans back, feeling Shaw press her front forward.

“Good morning Sameen.”

Shaw reaches forward to the sizzling bacon only to get a swat on her hand.

“Not yet.”

Shaw scoffs, tightening her hold. Root sets the stove on low and turns around, crowding Shaw until she bumps into the fridge. Tiptoeing, Shaw pulls Root down for a kiss, except Root grabs her wrists in midair.

“Turn around,” Root says.

Root trails her fingers up and down Shaw’s stomach, kissing and biting her bare shoulders. “Dangerous to be in the kitchen naked Sameen.”

“I’m not the one cooking.”

“I have a shirt on.”

“Barely covers anything.”

“Covers something at least.” Root hums, putting her hand between Shaw’s leg and teasing.

She only slips her fingers inside when the fridge starts to rock against the wall. Root bars an arm around Shaw’s chest, holding Shaw close as her fingers scissor inside.

There’s a knock on the door.

Root cocks her head to the side.

They knock again.

“Hold that thought sweetie,” Root says, kissing the side of Shaw’s head and slipping out.

Shaw groans and thunks her forehead against the fridge door.

Root licks her wet fingers, grinning all the way to the door.

The delivery girl stares wide-eyed at Root’s state of undress, her clipboard hanging limp.

“Is that for me?” Root points to the large parcel on the ground.

“Uhhh…” The delivery girl fumbles and reads the name off the package. “Caroline Turing?”

Root nods and signs the pad, ignoring the girl’s obvious leering.

“Thanks.”

The girl nudges the box with her toe and gives Root a small smile. “You need some help bringing that in? It’s a bit heavy.”

“We got it,” Shaw interrupts behind Root. She slides past her, making sure to brush her breasts against Root’s arm, letting the short robe gape a tiny bit for Root’s eyes.

The girl blinks, taking in the sight one last time before reluctantly turning away to the elevator.

Shaw bends over just enough for the robe to go above her butt while she picks up the package. She scoffs. Heavy? Hell no. Not for her, even if it does say 50 pounds. That is until Root swats her ass and she wobbles. She throws Root a glare for good measure and pushes past her to put the box on the kitchen table.

“What the hell did you buy?” Shaw rips open the box.

“Not me,” Root says, looking over Shaw’s head.

Shaw raises her eyebrows. “The Machine...got us a fuck machine?”

 

 


End file.
